Such Great Heights
by TerribleKate
Summary: Everything looks perfect from far away...[FutureFic: The gang reunites in Seattle after several years apart. Slightly better summary inside. McSizzie, Addisex, and MerDer other pairings undecided]
1. Daughters

**A/N: God, I have no idea why I do this to myself. I have enough trouble updating 'Sweet Baby' regularly; the last thing I need is another project. But yet, even still, here we are. I've been toying with this idea for awhile now and I had some free time today so I just sat down and wrote it all out.**

**So, here's the basics: this is set ten-ish years in the future. Everyone's favorite interns (and attendings) have gone their seperate ways. Mere and Derek are still in Seattle, Addie and Alex are in California, Izzie and Mark are in New York, Cristina and Burke are in...I don't know yet. Same goes for Callie and George. Anyways, the death of someone close to them all brings the group back to Seattle and then...stuff happens. That's pretty much all I can give you in terms of a summary. Just read it. I can't promise it will be good, but I can promise that it will be very interesting...or possibly painfully dull. We'll see.  
**

**Anyways, I dedicate this story to Lilly (LW107), my lovely McStizzie mentor. I probably wouldn't have gone through with it if not for her acting all excited and enthusiastic (even if she was just humouring me).**

**Disclaimer: I _absolutely_ own Grey's Anatomy. The show is mine, one hundred percent.**

_-Chapter One: Daughters-_**  
**

Four-year-old Ella Sloan sat quietly on her parents bed, staring intensely at the snoring lump, her father, under the blankets. She had been waiting for him to wake up for what felt like hours (in reality, it had only been ten minutes), and her patience was wearing thin. He had promised to take her to the library so she could get her very own library card, and she could hardly contain her excitement. Her mother had warned her not to wake her daddy up, because he had worked very late the night before, but she just couldn't stop herself.

"Daddy?" she whispered, slowly pulling away the covers.

She didn't get a reply.

"Daaaaaaadddddy?" She was a bit louder this time.

"Hmm?" Mark muttered, grasping for the blankets that were being slowly pulled away from him.

"Can you be awake now?"

"No, sweetie."

"Please? _Please_?! _Puh-leeze!_?" She began gently nudging him towards the edge of the bed.

"Oh my god" Mark groaned. It was far too early for this. "Cool it, Mai -- wait, which one are you again?"

Ella giggled. "My name is Elisabeth Adeline Stevens-Sloan."

"Well, Elisabeth Adeline Stevens-Sloan, you need to go downstairs and play or something. I'll be down later."

Ella's face crumpled. "But you said we would go to the liberry today."

"And we will. Eventually. After daddy gets a bit more sleep."

"You _said _we'd go when the sun woke up. And guess what, dad?"

"What, Ella?"

"The sun has been awake for _five million hours_," she exclaimed, once again pulling the comforter away from her father.

"Five million hours, huh?"

"Yup," she nodded. "That's a very long time."

"It certainly is," Mark agreed with a sigh. He had been defeated.

"Alright, I'm awake."

He sat up and slowly swung his legs off the side of the bed. Then, in one swift move, he scooped Ella into his arms and jumped up. She laughed wildly as he ran out of the room and down the stairs.

When the giggling pair entered the kitchen, they were met with a disapproving glare.

"Josie just fell asleep," Izzie said with a heavy sigh. "I can't even begin to tell you how much trouble you'll be in if she wakes up because you're running all over the house."

"Why is Josie napping at ten in the morning?" Mark asked, bending down slightly as Ella jumped from his arms.

"Because she's sick, Mark. She spent the entire night throwing up."

His eyes grew wide. "Is it serious? Do you think we should take her to the hospital?"

"No," Izzie laughed. "It's just a bug. Lulu and Maisie had it last week and it passed in a few days. She'll be fine. However, she definitely needs to stay home tonight. Do you think you can take the girls?"

"Take the girls...?"

"To their recital."

"Their recital," he echoed. It wasn't ringing a bell.

"Their dance recital. That they've been practicing for since May. The one that you _promised _you'd come to."

Mark frowned. How did he not remember this?

"You are coming, aren't you?"

"It slipped my mind," he admitted. "But I'll be there."

"Mark!" She kept her voice low so the girls couldn't hear. "They've really been looking forward to this. I cannot tell them that you're not coming. It's going to break their hearts."

"Well, then don't tell them that. I'm coming."

"Mark, I swear to God --"

"I'm coming, Izzie. I'll be there."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Seriously?"

Mark took his wife's face in his hands and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. "Seriously."

"Good," she replied with a smile, then returning her attention to a pan of cupcakes that needed frosting. "So, Lulu has a birthday party today at eleven, and I was thinking that it would save me some time if you could take her to the library with you and Ella and then drop her off on your way home. Oh, and you're going to have to take Emmie with you, because I need to run to the store and buy milk and diapers and you know how awful she is at the supermarket. I really don't have time for --"

"Wait, Izz," he caught her arm as she fluttered around the kitchen and pulled her close to him.

"What?" She asked impatiently, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"I feel like we haven't..._talked _in days." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm busy, Mark," Izzie warned. "and I demand that you unhand me, unless _you _would like to frost six dozen cupcakes for the school bake sale."

Mark considered this for a moment and then set her free. "Fair enough."

"That's what I thought."

"Sorry I got in so late," he said, grabbing the newspaper from the counter and took a seat at the kitchen table next to his two-year-old daughter, Emmie, who was slyly picking the marshmellows out of a box of Lucky Charms. "Emergency surgery."

"No big deal," Izzie placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

"This kid got mauled by a dog. It made off with half her face, I swear."

Maisie, who was sitting across the table coloring a picture, covered her ears and let out a slightly dramatic gag. The almost six-year-old had seen more surgical procedures than most interns, but yet she still found blood and guts utterly repulsive.

Mark laughed and playfully swatted Maisie with the newspaper. "Took us hours to make her look anything close to normal again."

"Uh huh," Izzie replied absently. "Em, please get your fingers out of the cereal box."

"Nope," the toddler answered casually, digging her chubby fingers deeper into the box.

"Emmeline, please."

Emmie stuck out a defiant tongue in response.

Izzie sighed. She had always considered Lulu her most difficult child, but Emmie was certainly a serious contender for the title. She was stubborn and insolent, constantly challenging anyone who dared to act as though they had authority over her. Izzie could hardly fault her for this, of course, considering that neither she nor Mark were incredibly agreeable people either; the poor girl was obviously destined to have a strong-willed streak. But even still, that didn't make her outbursts and acts of disobedience any less troubling.

"Alright then, I guess we're not going to the park after lunch." she shrugged.

"No!" Emmie cried, immediately recoiling her hand and pushing the box of cereal across the table.

"Thank you," Izzie hoisted the little girl out of her chair and sent her on her way. "Go put your shoes on. Then find Lulu and tell her that she needs to get ready to go."

"Where _is _Lulu?" Mark asked. He hadn't seen or heard from her at all that morning, which was never a good sign. She was quite a troublemaker and when she was extremely quiet, it usually meant that she was in the middle of doing something awful.

"I don't know," Izzie replied. "Maisie, do you know where she's at?"

Maisie stared down at the picture was she coloring, avoiding her parents' gaze. "Um, no?"

Izzie folded her arms. "Margaret, where is your sister?"

Maisie and Lulu were incredibly close (they were more like best friends than sisters) and they told each other every thing. Whenever Lulu was up to something, Maisie always knew beforehand.

"I'm not supposed to say," Maisie replied quietly.

"Spill it, Maisie," Mark demanded.

"Well, see, last night?" She began, hesistant. "She thought that maybe it would be kind of fun to paint the wall with nail polish?"

Both Mark and Izzie's jaws dropped.

"But she tried and it didn't look so good. So now she's tryin' to get it off? With nail polish remover? But she's running out of cotton balls. And it smells really bad."

"Oh my god," Izzie exhaled sharply, running her hand through her hair. "Maisie, go stop her. Right now. And then tell her to get herself down here right this instant."

Maisie obeyed quickly, jumping out of her chair and scurrying out of the kitchen.

"How did you ever talk me into having five kids?" Izzie sighed, plopping herself on Mark's lap and laying her head on his shoulder.

Mark laughed. "Seriously? This was _so _your idea."

**A/N: Sorry the ending is so abrupt. I just couldn't come up with a smoother fade out (ahh, the scriptwriter in me) and I'm too impatient to wait for inspiration to strike. **

**I'm also sorry that Mark is totally out of character. I don't understand the man. Not one bit. But I really wanted to try my hand at McStizzie because they're cute. Probably a bad idea, but whatever. **

**Anywho, the way this is going to work out, in case you're wondering: I'm writing a chapter for everyone, just to establish what's going on in their lives. _Then _they'll all end up in Seattle. Okay? Everyone on the same page? Good.**

** PS: Kate likes reviews.**


	2. Somedays

**A/N: Yes! An update! And it only took a month! I'm the best, huh?**

**So, we're moving on now to Addisex and, I'm really really sorry, but it's super angsty. Like, crazy super angsty. I tried to do some fluff at first, but I realized that I am without fluff right now and I just couldn't manage to write anything happy.  
**

** As soon as I started this story, I knew that I wanted to touch on the whole 'the grass is always greener' thing. I wanted everyone's lives to mirror each other's just slightly, but to be totally different at the same time. Does that make sense? Probably not, but whatever. Basically, we saw in the last chapter that Mark and Izzie's relationship is a little strained (though I didn't touch on that nearly as much as I would have liked to. It will come, though) because they just can't stop having kids. And Alex and Addie, well, they're basically hanging on by a thread because they can't have kids at all. It's ironic (though possibly only by mine and Alanis Morissette's definition). **

**Anyways, on with the sadfest:  
**

_-Chapter Two: Somedays-_

"I really thought this would be it, you know."

Alex threw a sideways glance in Addison's direction. They had been laying together in silence for almost an hour, so the sound of her voice took him by surprise.

"What?"

"I thought that this would be it. I thought we make it this time."

"Oh. Yeah, me too."

"It was the farthest we've ever gotten."

"Really?"

"Nineteen weeks. We've never made it that far before."

"What about Anna?"

"We lost her at thirteen weeks and three days."

"Oh," Alex pulled at a loose thread on the blanket he and Addison were laying beneath. "It seemed longer."

"It always does."

Addison sat up then, slowly, and kicked the blanket away.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to take a shower, if that's alright with you."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

Addison waved away his concern and carefully eased off the bed. "I'm fine."

"I know, but you should still take it easy," Alex said, hopping off the bed and trailing behind her as she grabbed her bathrobe from the armoire and headed towards the bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom.

"I've been in lying in that bed almost twelve hours, Alex." Her voice had a slight edge to it as she started peeling off her clothes and throwing them in the hamper. "I'm fine."

"But still, maybe you should just rest for awhile longer."

"I. Am. Fine," she repeated, turning the faucet in the shower all the way to the left. Hot water began spraying from the shower head. "Do I need to remind you that I've done this six times in the past three years? I know what I'm capable of."

"The doctors said --"

"Oh, if the _doctors _said so, then okay." She let out a hollow laugh. "Honestly Alex, I don't give a shit what the doctors said."

"They know what you need, though, Addison. They --"

"No! They _no idea_ what I need. _You _have no idea what I need."

"Addie, come on."

"No! I don't need to 'take it easy' for the next few days and I don't need you following me around like a puppy, waiting to pick up the pieces when I finally break. All I need is a fucking shower! Could you please just let me have that?"

"Addie --"

Addison inhaled raggedly. "Would you just go? Please?"

Alex stared at her for a long moment, studying her face. She looked drained. She looked _broken_. She looked like someone who's body had her betrayed her more times than she could count on one hand. He wondered if she would ever again look like the woman she was before they embarked on their journey to parenthood and the constant heartache that followed. It was unsettling for him to think that perhaps she wouldn't. Her perfectly shaped lips were covered in burgundy splotches where she had bitten down so hard that she drew blood. Her lovely porcelain skin was splotchy and looked almost transparent. And her eyes. Oh God, her eyes. They were a duller shade of blue than he was used to and it seemed like there wasn't much going on behind them. They used to be incredibly expressive. And infinite, too; sometimes he would initiate staring contests just so he could get lost in the sea of steel blue within her irises. The thought that her eyes may never be the same scared him the most.

Addison's voice, quiet but determined, jolted him out of the gaze.

"Alex, please?"

"Yeah, fine. I, uh...I think I'll go out for awhile, actually. Get some fresh air or something."

Addison simply nodded.

"Maybe I'll grab dinner and bring it home."

"Fine," she replied, opening the door for him.

He glanced at her briefly, wondering if maybe she would change her mind. When it was apparent that she wouldn't, he squeezed her hand quickly and then exited the steam-filled bathroom.

-----

When Alex returned home that evening, he found Addison sitting at the kitchen table, elbow deep in craft supplies. He inhaled sharply and approached the table slowly.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat next to her. "I got Chinese food."

"I'm not hungry," Addison replied without taking her eyes off the project in front of her.

"I figured. But it's here if you want any," he shrugged, pulling out a carton of fried rice from the plastic sack.

Addison glanced up at the sound of the rustling sack. "Would you not eat that here, please? I don't anything to get dirty. I'm working on --"

"Abigail's scrapbook," Alex interjected. Saying her name stung more than he thought it would, but he didn't let on. After the first miscarriage, he learned not to cry in front of his wife. She couldn't handle it.

Addison nodded slightly as a fresh batch of tears welled up in her eyes.

"Can I see what you have so far?" Alex closed the carton, placed it back in the bag, and then showed Addison the palms of his hands. "They're clean."

Addison handed it to him with only a small bit hesitation.

"You went with pink," he noted, tracing his fingers over the beads that spelled out her name, Abigail Rebekah, on the cover.

"I think it suits her, don't you?"

"Yeah, definitely. It's nice."

He flipped through the pages slowly, taking in each and every momento from their daughter's short life. On the first page, a copy of the blood test results that confirmed the pregnancy. Most people would have an actual pregnancy test to save, but of course not Addison. She'd want something more official.

The next page was bare, except for a grainy sonogram still. Abby was just a tiny little creature that bore no resemblance to an infant at that point, but still, knowing what that tiny creature would become, looking at the picture gave him chills.

"Do you remember that day?" Addison asked.

"Of course," Alex replied quietly. "How could I not?"

Abigail was going to be their miracle baby. After Addison miscarried their fifth child, a boy that they named Aaron, it became clear that even though she could get pregnant as easily as the next person, she couldn't carry a child to term. For this reason, they had made the decision to stop trying to conceive. As difficult as it was to give up on their dream of creating a family naturally, they both agreed that they couldn't handle creating another child only to lose him or her a few months later. They had decided to have Addison's tubes tied, so that they could still consider the surrogacy route further down the road.

However, six months after the procedure, Addison began throwing up. In the shower. At the dinner table. On a patient's very expensive shoes. Everywhere. This would not be something incredibly out of ordinary, as most everyone gets the occasional stomach bug. Except Addison. The woman had never been sick a day in her life. Unless pregnancy was involved.

After this had gone on for a few weeks, Addison had become slightly nervous. She told herself over and over again that there was no way that she was pregnant. No way. They made sure of that. However, she still couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, by some random act of kindness from up above, she was. She hated even entertaining the thought, but that didn't make it go away.

One afternoon, after a particularly awful bout of nausea, she pulled her husband into an empty exam room and plopped down on the table.

"Addie," he said with a laugh. "What has gotten into you? We _so _can't do this right now."

"Do an ultrasound."

Alex's grin faded and was replaced with a confused stare. "Do what?"

"An ultrasound. Do it."

"But...wait, why?"

"I have a _feeling_, Alex."

"Okay," Alex said slowly, turning on the machine. "A feeling. Alright. What kind of feeling?"

"Stop talking. Just work."

"Addie --"

"Do it!"

"Alright, alright. Chill out," Alex said, running the wand over his wife's stomach and studying the screen carefully, despite the fact that he had no idea what he was looking for.

After a few moments of this without any luck, Addison's faith began to waver. She was just _sure _that she was pregnant. Positive, really. There had to be a baby in there somewhere.

"Adds, I don't see anything."

"Just wait. Try for a few more minutes."

"What am I even doing, Addison?! You can't expect me to --"

"Wait." Addison grabbed his hand. "Right there. Do you see that?"

"Oh my God," Alex said quietly. "Is that --"

"A baby, Alex. That's a baby."

For the next two and a half months, Addison and Alex were the happiest they had ever been. They were going to get their chance to be parents, after all, so how could they not? They knew that there was a possibility that things would end badly, but they both firmly believed that this child was a miracle and that she would be the one to finally stick around. And for quite awhile, it seemed that they were correct. Eight weeks eventually turned to ten, and, when ten slowly turned to twelve, the chance of miscarriage dropped considerably. They felt as though nothing could stop them from that point on. It went wonderfully from there, with twelve weeks becoming fourteen, and fourteen turning into sixteen. Before they knew it, the half-way mark was in sight. It was written on the calendar in their kitchen and, every morning before breakfast, they would eagerly check off another day.

On June 20th, exactly a week before they hit five months, they awoke in a blood-soaked bed.

Everything would be okay, Alex had said, scooping his wife out the bed and running to the car. _Everything would be okay_.

When they made it to the hospital, though, it was clear that everything was _not _okay. The doctors did everything they could, but it simply wasn't enough. Their daughter was born within a few hours and, after only staying inside the womb for nineteen weeks, there was simply no chance of survival. Their hopes of being parents were once again shattered.

They released Addison from the hospital a few days later, no longer pregnant but without a child. That was the worst part, she had decided. That she was leaving the hospital just like every other mother who gave birth, but she didn't have a baby girl in her arms. They didn't spend thirty minutes trying to figure out how to buckle their precious cargo into the car seat safely. They didn't drive ridiculously slowly the entire way home. Addison didn't sit in the backseat and Alex didn't constantly adjust his mirror so he could check on them both. There was no 'Welcome home, baby!' banner when they arrived at their doorstep. There was no group of people waiting for them when they turned the knob and opened the door to their newly baby-proof home. There was none of that because they were, once again, just Alex and Addie. Childless, except for a cat named Muffin Top, Alex and Addie Karev. Yes, that was definitely the worst part for Addison.

For Alex, though, the worst part was always the way he seemed to lose a part of his wife every time they lost a child. The way she withdrew into herself, refusing to let him in in, was terrifying. He could feel her slipping away a little farther with each consecutive heartbreak, and he had no idea how to get her back. He realized that men and women grieved differently, but he couldn't handle the way she shut him out. After all, he had lost a child too, and he needed someone to comfort him as much as she needed someone to comfort herself. That was always the hardest for him.

Alex flipped through the pages of the scrapbook once last time and then handed it back to Addison. "You did a really good job with this one, Adds."

"Practice makes perfect," she said, chuckling bitterly. "I'm tired. I think I'll finish this in the morning."

She began neatly stacking all of her supplies and moving them to one corner of the table. When she was done, she grabbed a throw blanket that was draped across the chair she had been sitting in and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Be sure to turn off the lights when you're done in here."

"Why don't you stay with me, Addison?"

"I already told you I'm not hungry," she replied, continuing down the hall.

"You could still stay. We could talk or something."

"I'm tired, Alex."

Alex inhaled sharply. "Alright, then. Good night, Adds. I love you."

"Good night, Alex."

**A/N: Well. That's that. Review if you love, or even slightly like, me. **

**Oh, title of this chapter is from Regina Spektor's song 'Somedays'. If you listen to that song while reading this chapter, you will probably cry. I did. **

**Oh and also, thank you again for the cake, Lilly. I'm pretty sure you sprinkled magical anti-writers block dust on it, which I so appreciate.**


	3. Hush

**A/N: Alright, so, I lied. Kind of. I said that I would give everyone one chapter showing where they're at. And that _is _the plan still. But I was having a really hard time with MerDer and so...I wrote another McStizzie chapter. And I know I should have just sat my little butt down and focused on what I needed to focus on, but I couldn't help it. I love this family and I have insane amounts of fun writing them, so I just did it.  
**

**I promise that all the other pairings are coming, so _please _be patient, okay? Okay. Good. Thanks.**

Mark was positive he had forgotten something when he rolled up the driveway of his New York home. He wasn't sure exactly what, but he recalled Izzie reminding him about it several times throughout the week. He recounted everything he had a tendency of being late for or missing altogether, and it seemed that he was in the clear. School had been out for weeks, so it wasn't a play or a parent/teacher conference and there were no birthdays or anniversaries in July, so it seemed safe to say that he hadn't forgotten about anything _too _important. It still bothered him, though, and his mind was in overdrive as he got out of the car and started up yard.

As he got closer to the house, he could see a soft light flickering in his living room through the curtains. When he made it to the front porch, he recognized it as the glow of a television. No one would be awake at this time of night, he was sure, so he expected to find that the TV had simply been left on during the hectic bedtime rush. However, as he opened the door, he realized that that wasn't the case. Three pairs of blue eyes and two of brown fell on him as soon as his foot crossed the threshold.

Without even a moment's warning, Ella shot to the front door and flung herself against his legs. The rest of the girls (aside from Emmie, who simply stared at him for a moment and then turned her attention back to the television) joined her, and the sheer force of their collective embrace nearly knocked him over. Even Josie, who had only managed the art of walking a few days earlier, toddled over and tried to join in on the action, but, as per usual, couldn't manage to make it past her sisters. She solved this problem rather quickly, though, by biting Lulu's leg. The older girl let out a pained squawk and jumped out of the way, giving Josie the perfect opportunity to squeeze in the middle and get some of the daddy cuddles she so desperately required.

Mark scooped her up and, in his very best 'stern father' voice, tried to admonished her. However, the child, with her wispy blonde hair and impossibly big, brown eyes, was an exact replica of her mother and he had an incredibly hard time disciplining her without dissolving into a fit of laughter as soon as she twisted her delicate features into Izzie's signature pout. Besides, at only eleven months, he didn't imagine she really understood much of what he had to say anyway. He still had to keep up appearances, though, so the rest of the girls didn't feel as though he was playing favorites.

"Daddy," Lulu said, rubbing the injury site softly (it didn't hurt nearly as much as the miserably sad look on her face might suggest, but she was never one to turn away a chance at gaining her father's undivided attention, even if only for a few moments). "can I sleep by you tonight, since I only have _one _good leg and all?"

"You need to sleep in your own bed, Lulu," Mark replied apologetically, kissing the top of her head. "Why are you girls still up, anyway?"

"You know why, you goofball!" Ella giggled, gesturing towards the pile of blankets and sheets in the middle of the room. "It's Fortnight Fort Night!"

For quite awhile, the Sloans had spent every other Friday night watching movies and eating popcorn in a fort of blankets (hence the name Fortnight Fort Night, which Lulu very proudly came up with all on her own) that they would construct in the middle of their living room. It started very simply one evening when a particularly nasty thunderstorm produced a lightning bolt that struck a utility pole, leaving their entire neighborhood without electricity. Lulu was almost five and Maisie was barely three at the time and neither were particularly fond of the idea of sleeping in their pitch black bedrooms, so they attempted to climb in bed with their parents. Unfortunately, Ella had already beat them to it. She was a very difficult child to share a bed with, as she had a tendency to sleep with her arms and legs splayed out in a way that somehow managed to take up the majority of the mattress, despite the fact that she was rather petite for a toddler of her age. They had a hard enough time managing to sleep with her in the bed, especially since Izzie was _very _pregnant at the time, so there was simply no way they could have added two more bodies.

But never being one to turn her babies away when they needed her, Izzie came up with a plan. She gathered several blankets from the linen closet and scoured the house for candles which she lit and placed all over the living room.

"We'll sleep out here," she said, unrolling a sleeping bag that Mark had found tucked away in the garage.

"Like a camp out?!" Lulu asked excitedly.

"_Exactly _like a camp out," Izzie confirmed.

"With s'mores and ghost stories and _everything_?"

"I don't think we have any marshmallows, Lu."

Seeing Lulu's face drop at Mark's reply, Izzie quickly added "But maybe we can have s'mores next time."

"Next time? You think we'll do this again, mommy?"

"Maybe," Izzie shrugged.

And sure enough, they did. The first time was only to satisfy Lulu's request for s'mores, but they soon realized that they had more fun on those nights, singing songs around the 'campfire' (which was actually just a Yankee candle that smelled like pink lemonade) and telling ridiculously unscary ghost stories, than they had in ages. And even though they always woke up sore and exhausted from only getting a few hours of actual sleep, both Mark and Izzie decided that it was worth it. However, they did think that doing it nearly every night of the week like Lulu and Maisie had wanted was a bit much, so they they settled on every other Friday.

And so the tradition was born.

"You didn't forget, did you?" Maisie asked with pursed lips and raised eyebrows.

"Of course not," Mark answered quickly.

"Oh," Maisie said thoughtfully. "Well, I thought you did."

"But I 'membered one time when you were late for Em's birthday party and mom said to have more faith in you, so I said, 'Maisie, we have to have to give him a chance," Lulu added with a proud nod.

"Well, that was very kind of you, Lu," Mark laughed. "Now where is that mom of yours, anyway?"

Lulu and Maisie exchanged quick, not so subtle, nervous glances when he asked this, but quickly recovered.

"She's, uh...well, kinda sorta --" Maisie paused, clearing her throat. "She's sorta --"

"Angry," Ella interjected.

"Really?" Mark asked.

"Yes," Lulu nodded. "With you."

"With _me_?"

"Yes!" Ella exclaimed, obviously very excited to share what she knew. "See, she helped us make our forts and put _Cinderella _and then told Lulu to watch Josie and she then she went to her bedroom and she said, 'Nobody come here right now, 'cause I need private mommy time.' But I followed her and she said 'Ella, go back with your sisters. I'll be out in awhile.' And then I said, 'But mom, it's Fortnight Fort Night and you looooove Fortnight Fort Night' and then she said, 'I need a minute, okay?' and then I said 'How long's a minute?' And then she said 'Elisabeth, _please_!' and then I said, 'Please what?' and then she just siiiiiighed really big and shut the door. And then she locked it, Daddy! She _locked _it!"

Mark looked towards his older daughters for confirmation. When they nodded in agreement with Ella, he frowned. "That doesn't sound like Mommy."

"It does," Maisie corrected. "when she's mad at you."

-----

Mark stood at the door of his bedroom and knocked for what seemed like the millionth time. Izzie refused to answer, but he heard an occasional sniffle and knew that she was there. "Come on, Izzie," he said with a sigh. "_Please _let me in."

There was once again no reply.

He jiggled the door handle again, hoping that maybe it had miraculously unlocked. It hadn't, of course. "Do I need to get a screwdriver or something?"

"You need to just _go_, okay? Right now, you need to leave me alone."

Mark pumped his fist in the air. He wasn't exactly thrilled with what his wife had to say, but at least verbal contact had been made.

"Listen, I know you're angry that I'm late and --"

"Seriously, Mark. I do _not _want to talk to you right now."

"Fine, but will you at least listen? Please? I know I've been doing this a lot lately, and I know that there's really no excuse worth mentioning, but I'm really trying to do better and I --"

He stopped short when he heard what he thought were footsteps. They got closer to the door, then farther away, then closer again, and then stopped completely. Things were silent for several seconds and just as he was about to knock once more, the door flew open.

As Mark took in Izzie's appearance, his previously tense features immediately softened. It was easy to gather from her bloodshot eyes and the red patch under her nose that she had obviously rubbed raw with tissues that she had been crying. On top of that, she was pale as a sheet and looked absolutely exhausted.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to grab her hand.

"Do not touch me," she hissed, pulling away from him and backing across the room.

"I mean it, Mark. Don't you dare come anywhere near me."

He ignored her, taking a step closer. "What's going on, Izz?"

"I swear to God, I'm about two seconds from picking up this lamp and throwing it at your face."

"Fair enough," Mark replied, throwing his hands up in surrender. "But can I ask _why_?"

"Because!" Izzie exclaimed. "Because...because of this."

She stormed out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, which, much to Mark's surprise, looked like it had been invaded by an army of pregnancy tests. Positive pregnancy tests.

"Shit," Mark breathed. He immediately regretted this, of course, but he really couldn't help it. The reaction popped into his head and flew out of his mouth in a matter of seconds. Besides, it didn't seem like Izzie was exactly thrilled either.

"Exactly!" Izzie cried. "_Exactly_."

"Are you _sure_, Izzie? I mean, these can be wrong. These are actually wrong a lot, right? So, this could be a complete and total false --"

"I'm sure, Mark," she huffed irritably. She had known for weeks just by instinct, and the five million positive pregnancy tests were just the icing on a really terrible surprise cake.

"Okay," Mark said somberly. "Don't worry, alright? Don't panic. We'll just...figure this out." He was directing this at Izzie, but it was really more for himself. "This is not bad. This is --"

"Awful."

"No. _Unexpected_."

"And _awful_."

Truthfully, there wasn't another word Izzie could think of to describe what was happening to them. Because another pregnancy was not part of the plan. At all. No more babies, they had decided (Technically, they had decided this after Emmie was born, but they really _really _meant it after the last pregnancy). Josie was _going _to be the last child and as soon as she made it into Kindergarten, Izzie was _going _to go back to work. There would be no more pregnancy, no more childbirth, no more dirty diapers, no more three AM booby calls. They were done. With every milestone their youngest daughter reached, Mark and Izzie fully accepted that it would be the last time they'd witness those moments. And really, they were fine with that. Of course there were times when it was a bittersweet relief to know that they would never hold their breath and watch as a child of theirs took those wobbly first steps or uttered that long awaited first word, but it was relief nonetheless. They were finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And then a teeny tiny baby, no bigger than a peanut, came in and was going to steal all that away. And it angered her more than she could ever admit without feeling like the world's worth mother.

"You know what? We're not going to worry about this," Mark said diplomatically. "We're going to go into the living room and sleep on the floor and watch one of those awful princess movies for the millionth time."

"Can we worry about it tomorrow?"

"_Absolutely_, we will. And we can even --"

Before Mark could finish his sentence, there was a loud bang on the door.

"Mom?! _Dad_?!"

"_Yes_, Ella?" they asked in unison.

"What're you guys doin' in there, makin' a _baby_?!"

"Don't have to worry about that, Elle," Mark muttered.

Izzie glared at him, then cleared her throat. "We'll be right out, Ella."

"Well hurry up. Josie pooped and it's stinkin' up the whole fort," she yelled before stomping back down the hall.

"See?" Mark said with a smirk. "Aren't you looking forward to more of _that_?"

"Shut _up_," Izzie replied, playfully shoving his shoulder. "I hate you."

"Right back at you, babe."

**A/N: My endings are always funky and I apologize for that. Blech. It's late. I'm going to sleep. I want reviews in my inbox when I wake up, kids.**

**Oh, and the title of this chapter comes from a song by Waterdeep with the same name. It has nothing to do with anything, but it's been on repeat for the past several days, so it's all I could think of.  
**


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